Sick of Losing Soulmates
by Pawprinter
Summary: Clarke and Bellamy talk after the events at Gabriel's. After almost losing her again, Bellamy intends to not let emotions go unspoken. [Post 6x10]


**Whew. Welcome to the chaos.**

***This fic contains spoilers for season 6 episode 10! This bad boy just aired a few hours ago, and uhhhhhh it left me feeling inspired.**

**This is sort of a 6x11 prediction fic, but not really? Because I know this will 100% not happen next episode. A girl can dream though, right? But it's set post-6x10 and includes everything I wish would happen. I wrote this in 4 hours, but it doesn't have any proofreading and it's currently very late, so be aware.**

**Warning: this fic is rated T for coarse language.**

**ALSO, this fic is written for Bellarke Bingo! This is an event I'm running on Tumblr. Basically, you're given a custom board with 25 prompts on it, and the goal is to put as many as possible into fics. With this one-shot, I am crossing off "mutual pining," "fix it fic," "canon compliant," "first kiss," "I thought I lost you."**

**The title for this fic is based of a dodie song called "Sick of Losing Soulmates." While that song doesn't exactly match the theme of the fic, the song is beautiful and I'm on a dodie kick. Go listen to her stuff and weep at how good it is.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Sick of Losing Soulmates**

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Gabriel helped Clarke remove the EEG from around her head. His eyes were focused on the screen beside her bed, alight with green waves that Bellamy couldn't even pretend to understand. Clarke, on the other hand, looked exhausted.

Bellamy's thumb swept over the back of her hand, the action seemingly calming both of them down. He wasn't too sure when he grabbed her hand – was it when she woke up, or was it after that? They were like two magnets, constantly being drawn to each other, and he long stopped trying to take note of it.

_God, _she looked so tired. Her eyes could barely stay open, in fact. Ever few seconds, her eyelids would flutter shut or her eyes would go unfocused, before they'd snap open again.

He fought every impulse to reach forward and press a kiss to her forehead, urging her to sleep.

Bellamy stretched his neck to see the screen Gabriel was focused on, but he didn't understand what any of the lines or numbers meant. He didn't have to wonder for long. "Your vitals are holding steady," he announced. "You're lucky."

_Lucky. _Somehow, that was the perfect word to describe the situation, except _she _wasn't the lucky one. It was Bellamy who was lucky – he was lucky that Clarke was such a fighter. She _fought _to be here, she _fought _to wake up; her survival wasn't based around luck.

"I am," she said, her lips barely moving.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He took note of the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her eyelids kept fluttering shut, and how her breathing was slow and even. He watched with rapt attention as her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and how the corners of her lips would curve into a smile every once and a while.

She was mesmerizing. She always was. Now, even more so, because _fuck, he almost lost her._

With that thought alone, cold hands seemingly wrapped around his heart. Bellamy felt panic rise up in him – a panic that he'd only felt a few times before in his life.

_He almost lost her. _She almost died.

His hand tightened on hers the slightest bit. Without hesitation, her eyes snapped to his and her fingers flexed. Her eyebrows rose the slightest bit, and he understood what she was silently asking him.

_Are you okay?_

Of course, Clarke Griffin was asking _him _if he was okay, when she was dead only moment before. It was such a Clarke thing to do, and it almost made him laugh.

His lips twitched upwards and he gave her a miniscule nod because, _yeah, _he was okay. He was okay now that _she _was okay. He could see the blood in her cheeks, he could feel the warmth of her hand, he could hear the monitor beeping steadily with her heart.

Best of all, he could see _her. _Despite her clear exhaustion, he could see Clarke, and she took his breath away. Her eyes sparkled with life, her smile was filled with relief, her grip was grounding. She could say everything she needed to say to him with a single glance and – _yes, _he was okay because she was okay.

"You're going to have to take it easy," Gabriel continued speaking after a moment. He glanced at Clarke directly. "Drink lots of fluids, keep the incision clean and dry, don't move around too much. Your body and mind just went through a hell of a journey – you deserve to rest."

The smile fell from her lips. "I'll rest when our people are safe." Her gaze flitted back to his. "We need to get back. We need to-"

"No." His thumb swept across her hand again and his eyes bore into hers. "We're not going anywhere, Clarke. Gabriel's right; you need to rest."

She wasn't convinced. "But-"

"You just died. Twice." Even though the words he was saying tore a hole in his heart, he smiled. "I think you deserve to rest – at least for the night."

The corners of her lips tugged up. "You think we deserve a drink?"

_God, _that felt like a lifetime ago. In a way, it was. That night that they celebrated Unity Days at the dropship was technically 125 years ago.

125 years, and they still hadn't had a drink.

Bellamy snorted and dropped his head. "After this, you deserve as many drinks as you want, princess."

_Princess. _That was a lifetime ago, too.

Her gaze softened the slightest bit. She reciprocated his movements and ran her thumb over the back of his hand. It was such a simple touch, yet it made his chest warm.

"No drinking until you're in the clear, okay?" Gabriel smirked down at the two of them.

Bellamy couldn't help but smirk back. _Things were good. _Clarke was solid beside him, she was joking, she was laughing, she was alive. A feeling of bliss settled on him.

Gabriel's gaze settled on him. "Make sure she doesn't try to make it back to Sanctum tonight," he told him. "After tonight, I can see what you said is the truth; she's a fighter."

Bellamy's gaze dropped down to Clarke. Her eyes were partially closed as she watched him, and a swell of affection hit him. His free hand came up to the side of her face and brushed a few of her stray strands of hair behind her ear.

"She is," he said, his voice dipping lower. The corners of her lips twitched up again and she let out a tiny sigh.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Not when Octavia mentioned how they found her, not when Gabriel spoke about Josephine's chip, not even when Octavia squeezed his shoulder in comfort.

He didn't want to look away from Clarke in that moment. He dreaded the moment he would have to leave her side. The wounds of her dying were fresh and damn anyone who tried to get him to move from her side.

_He needed to be by her. _He needed to watch her chest rise and fall evenly on her own, he needed to hear her heart beat without his hands, he needed to feel her strength in her grip. _The memories of him leaning over her, breathing for her, pounding on her chest, begging her to stay with him, sobbing into her hair, seeing her limp – they were all too fresh._

She must've felt the same way. Her grip on his hand was solid and unmoving, and he hoped she didn't plan on letting go anytime soon. Their eyes kept meeting and a silent understanding would pass through them.

_I'm here, _he wanted to say.

_I'm alive, _her eyes told him.

She died, and she clung to him like he was her tether to life. He clung to her like she was the last breath of air in space.

_They didn't want to lose each other. _They'd done that more times than what they should've had to; they didn't want to do it again, especially not so soon after a nightmare almost became reality.

"You did good, Bellamy," Gabriel said, drawing his attention back. He wasn't too sure how long he'd tuned him out, but the softness to his voice snapped him back. The two men glanced at one another.

Not too long ago, Gabriel was looking at Clarke's body, telling Josephine that he had loved her for centuries.

It was funny, in a way, that Bellamy had been in love with a woman for centuries, too. He wasn't too sure when it happened, but he was so utterly, hopelessly, beautifully in love with Clarke.

Once again, his eyes locked onto her grey ones. They were so full of life and curiosity, and it made his heart ache for her a little more. _He was so in love with her. _He loved her because she was selfless, and passionate, and strong. He admired her determination and her defiance and her heart. She was logical, and loving, and _home. _She was his home.

He loved her for her beautiful heart and soul, but he loved her for her demons, too. He loved her for his flaws and her mistakes and her regrets. He was with her through it all – the good and the bad – and he loved her for such.

Without a second though, he cupped the side of her cheek. She glanced at him through her lashes and leaned into his touch just the slightest bit. He could see the tension in her shoulders bleed away.

"I'm tired," Octavia announced suddenly, breaking through the thick silence that consumed the four of them. In all honesty, he forgot her and Gabriel were still in the room – he'd been so focused on Clarke, he doubted that he would've noticed if a fire had been lit. "You're tired too, aren't you, Gabriel?"

The man hovering beside Clarke froze and turned to look at her. "What?" he questioned. "I'm not-"

"Yes, you are," Octavia cut him off quickly. "Very tired. Extremely. You were telling me earlier."

Bellamy glanced between his sister and the stranger that helped save Clarke's life. She was pointedly looking at Gabriel. His heart lurched. The woman in front of him reminded him so much of the girl he knew – of his sister. She still carried the strength that she found on the ground, yet he could sense a rediscovered sense of compassion within her.

_Now was not the time. _Later. He'd talk with her later, they'd mend the chasm between them. If there was one thing losing Clarke twice over the last week had taught him, it was not to take life for granted. They didn't have all the time in the world.

"Octavia, I have no idea-"

"For gods sake," she snapped as she threw her hands into the air. "We're leaving, Gabriel, because we're tired."

The man in question glanced at Bellamy, still clearly very confused. "Uh. Sure."

Octavia turned her pointed gaze to Bellamy. As soon as the two Blakes locked eyes, her gaze softened. "Take care of her, okay?"

He laughed softly. "Always."

With that, Octavia turned and left the makeshift medical room, with Gabriel trailing behind. For the first time in a long time, it was just him and Clarke.

Without others around them, it felt different. With Clarke, he didn't have to put on a show. He didn't have to pretend that everything was okay. He didn't have to pretend that he was invincible and unbreakable, because she could see through every mask and every act. With Clarke, he could let the walls fall.

Tension that he didn't know he was carrying drained from him. He deflated and realized that he was exhausted. He couldn't imagine how she was feeling in that moment.

He rocked forward in his seat and propped his elbows up on the side of the hospital bed, never dropping her hand. She shifted around and turned so she was facing him instead of resting on her back.

"Mmmmm," she said. Clarke let their hands fall to the mattress beside her and pulled his hand to rest against her torso. His heart melted from the intimacy of such a simple action. "Hey."

"Hi." The finger of his free hand trailed down her arm. "It's nice to hear your voice." She grinned at him and curled in on his arm a little more.

Unlike with Gabriel and Octavia in the room, the silence between them was easy and comfortable. He was sure he could stay there all day, just sitting with her, letting her fingers twine with his.

After a moment, he spoke. "Are you okay?"

In purely Clarke fashion, she smiled. "A little tired, but yeah." Her eyes danced with mirth. "I'm not dead, so I could be worse."

"You were dead," he said after a moment. The words left his mouth without a second thought, and speaking them made the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. Goose bumps ran up and down his arm from gut-wrenching fear.

_I almost lost her._

"I'm alive now though," she said. She moved his hand from her torso to her chest, positioning it so he could feel the steady beat of her heart. "You feel?"

It was chilling to think about how, not too long ago, he was beating her heart for her. It was a stark contrast to the rhythm he felt now.

"I feel." Neither of them moved their hands away from her chest. "I'm so proud of you, Clarke. You did so good."

_He almost lost her. _

Every few seconds, he'd be hit with this crushing realization that he was seconds away from losing her forever. His heart would stop, the blood would freeze in his veins, the world would tip on its axis.

_She almost died. _If he gave up as easily as Gabriel did, she would've died. If he didn't reach over her and pound on her chest or breathe into her lungs, _she would've died. _If he hadn't been there, she-

Fuck, it felt like he was drowning. Even though she was right in front of him – even though he could see her and feel her – he was terrified. He was so close to losing her.

When they locked eyes again, something in his chest broke. He struggled to breathe through the panic and the pain. His eyes burned with unshed tears.

"I thought I lost you again," he said. His voice wavered with emotion. It took all of his strength to keep from crumpling beside her and sobbing until his throat was raw. He would've done that, too, if he didn't have so much to say.

"It's almost unfair how often this happens, huh?" Her voice was thick with emotion too, and that made his heart shatter further.

"First, it was Praimfaya," he said. He mourned her for years after that, thinking that he left her behind to die in a fiery hell. "Then again in Sanctum." Those wounds were still fresh too, as it happened only a few days ago. "I thought I was going to lose you for a third time today. I was terrified that this was it – that there could only be so many close calls."

He didn't realize when he started crying, but his cheeks were wet with tears.

"I was scared too," she said. She dropped his hand so she could reach forward and brush some of the tears from his face. Her touch lingered the slightest bit and he leaned into it.

"I've lived in a world without you, Clarke, and I don't want to do that again. I _won't _do that again."

_"__I'm not losing you again," _he told her as he willed her heart to start beating again. _"Clarke. I need you. I'm not letting you go."_

His words were desperate and true. He didn't want to lose her again – he refused. He didn't want to let her go – _he fucking refused._

Clarke let out a tiny wet laugh and cupped his jaw. "You promised me that you wouldn't let me die," she responded, her voice raspy. "You came through. You always do."

It was his turn to let out a wet laugh. His head dipped forward and, on a complete high from the adrenaline from the day, he pressed a soft kiss to her inner wrist. Her fingers threaded through his hair gently.

He didn't dare pull away from her touch. He relished having her fingers run through his curls; it was soothing and grounding.

The silence between them didn't last long. "What did Gabriel mean?" she asked. "Right before he left, he told you that you did a good job?"

_Oh._

Bellamy jolted back the slightest bit and his heart jumped into his throat.

_She didn't know._

Of course not – how _could _she know that he breathed for her? She was dead when his hands dug into her skin, when his lips were pressed against hers.

(Fuck. Her lips.)

"Things weren't looking good," he said. As he spoke, he retook her hand. "Josephine was still sharing your mind, even after removing the mind drive. You flat lined and you weren't responding to anything Gabriel was doing." He focused on a crease in the sheet below her shoulder, not having the strength to look her in the eye as he spoke. Talking about her death was overwhelming. "You died, and you weren't coming back. Gabriel and Octavia lost hope."

"But you didn't," she spoke, taking the words from his mouth.

"But I didn't," Bellamy echoed. "When they were giving up, I couldn't, so I performed CPR."

Clarke stilled at that and her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "What? Really?" Before he could respond, she let out a breathless laugh. "When did you become Dr. Blake?"

He snorted at her light teasing. "Never. I never even _learned _how to do CPR," he admitted. She looked amused at this revelation. "I read about it once in a medical textbook on the Ark, but I never saw it and I didn't know what I was doing. All I knew was that I had to try." He swallowed thickly and the smile fell from his lips. "I saw you dying, and I _knew _I couldn't stand by and watch. I had to do something."

"You saved me." Her voice was soft and gentle, yet held so much strength.

They locked eyes again and he felt his heart race. "I'll always save you, Clarke."

_Always. _He lost her more than he ever wanted to, and he refused to lose her again. He'd do anything he could to keep her here – to keep her alive. He'd climb mountains, and swim oceans, and hike through the woods if it meant keeping her alive.

"But, you know, it wasn't the CPR that saved me."

_That _shocked Bellamy. He lifted an eyebrow. "No?"

"No." Her fingers were playing with his at her side again, distracting both of them. "I heard you."

He gawked at that. _What did she mean? _"You heard me?" he echoed.

Clarke was smiling as she spoke. "'_Get up and fight_,'" she quoted him perfectly. His heart froze in his chest. If she heard that, what else did she hear?

Did she hear his desperate pleas for her to stay with him? Did she hear his vow to not lose her again? Did she hear him say how much he needs her?

He wished she did. He wished she knew. Bellamy always knew that he hadn't been clear with her, that he never told her specifically how much she meant to him, but he always promised himself that he'd tell her later.

_I'll tell her how much I need her later. I'll tell her how much I care tomorrow._

It was becoming clearer through the years that they didn't always have a later.

_He wanted to tell her. _

_Now. _

_He wanted to tell her now._

"I heard you, Bellamy, I heard you telling me I needed to fight. And… _hearing you, that _was the reason I came back." Tears were filling her eyes. His throat was tight with emotion. "Because I'm not done living my life. There's so many things I want to do, and I'm not letting Josephine or Russell take that away from me. There's people I love here, and I know people love me."

_I love you, Clarke. I'm in love with you. _

The words stuck in his throat.

In true Bellamy fashion, he stayed silent. He didn't speak when he should've. He choked on his words.

"You're right," he admitted, "there are plenty of people who love you, Clarke." Also in true Bellamy fashion, he tried to leave. When it came to Clarke and emotions, the easiest thing to do was run. "I'm sure you must be tired," he said. "Maybe I should go."

"Oh." She shifted in bed, sitting up a little straighter. "Of course. It's late."

_He still wasn't ready to leave her side. _He could still see her lifeless body on the table. He could still hear the alarms coming from the machines when she flat lined.

He didn't want to go – not yet.

"Get some rest, okay?" he told her. "We'll get that drink soon."

Bellamy stood up from the chair at her bedside and took a step backwards, intending to turn around and leave her for the night. It was true – she needed to sleep. Also true was the fact he was running because he couldn't deny it anymore.

_Losing her made him realize he was in love with her and needed to tell her._

Just as he turned around to leave, her grip tightened on his hand. "Bellamy?" She sounded unsure. He instantly turned back to face her. "Can you stay with me?"

His mind seemed to stop working when she spoke those words.

_Stay with me._

_Always._

His mouth refused to form any words, he was so stunned. She must've took his silence as hesitation, not shock, and she tried to explain herself. "I haven't been able to sleep in a while," she admitted. "When I was in control, sleeping meant giving that back to Josephine. Before that, when it was Josephine in control, she _couldn't _sleep." Her laugh was wet. "I'm exhausted, to be honest."

Even when Bellamy moved closer to the edge of the bed, she kept talking. Once she opened up that dam, she couldn't close it again until it was all out.

"I'm terrified, too," she continued. Her voice wavered and Bellamy's heart shattered. "I… Fuck." She let out a loud sniff and blinked rapidly, keeping the tears away. _She was hurting. _"I can't even trust my own mind. Before, even in the worst of times, I could always trust me – I could always count on me. Except, now, that's not true.

"I'm never safe." With that admission, her walls shattered. She let out a contained sob. "I'm not safe in my mind, I'm not safe out here…" God, Bellamy never even thought of how terrified she must be to be alone. The last time she was herself and alone, her body was snatched and she was murdered. "I'm never safe – except when I'm with you, because I knows I can trust you, and I know you'll be there for me."

_Fuck._

"Of course, Clarke," he said, his voice raw with emotion.

He wished that he could take away all the hurt she had. He could see how much pain she was in – she was scared and traumatized, rightfully so. If he experienced all that she had, he would've been in worse shape than her.

And he wished he could save her from it. He wished that it was an easy fix like stitches or bandages, but he knew that wasn't the case. He knew that he couldn't save her from this pain gnawing away at her – nobody could.

Without another moment of hesitation, Bellamy moved to the edge of the bed. She shifted to the side to make room for him and he moved in next to her. It was a tight fit, but they managed to make it work.

They came together so easily that it felt normal. Despite years of knowing each other, they'd never shared a bed, and they'd never been this close. _It was nice. _Her embrace felt like home, so he wasn't surprised that sharing a bed with her felt like home too.

His arm tucked under her and she pressed into his side easily. His breath was stolen when her cold nose pressed against his neck. She must've known it shocked him because she let out a breathless laugh, and her warm breath tickled his neck.

"You'll stay the night?" she clarified. Her arm draped over his torso and he mirrored her action.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to," he promised.

Even though he couldn't take her pain away, he'd do anything to help. He'd spend every night with her if it meant keeping the nightmares away. He'd be beside her for as long as she needed.

His words must've been enough to reassure her. He could feel her ease into his side. His heart was racing in his chest and he was sure she could hear it.

Laying with Clarke was comfortable. The tension in both of their shoulders had seemingly vanished and a warmth was growing in his chest. It was calming, being beside her. He wondered why it had taken him 125 years to figure out exactly how comfortable it was.

They shared a lot of private and intimate moments through the years, but this one topped them all. Laying in the dark with her pressed against his side, her nose merely inches from his – it stole his breath.

While the silence was comfortable, his haunted thoughts were only amplified by it. He couldn't stop thinking of how he almost lost her – how they were so close to losing her forever.

"I almost lost you." The words were hard for him to speak, but they rolled off his tongue easily. "And I kept thinking… _fuck. _I don't want to lose you." He could see her eyes inches away from his, faintly illuminated by the moonlight streaming in from the window. "I don't want to lose you without having told you how much you mean to me. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't tell you."

She smiled softly. "I know, Bellamy. You don't have to tell me."

_No. You don't know. _

_You don't know I'm in love with you, and you don't know I have been falling in love with you since the moment you took mercy on Atom. _

_You don't know that the hardest decision of my life was leaving you behind to die alone on Earth, and then again, choosing peace over avenging your death._

_You don't know how much you mean to me, Clarke, because I've never told you._

"I know I don't have to," he said slowly. "I _want _to. I want you to know, Clarke, because you're the most important person in my life. You're my best friend – and you've been my best friend ever since we were teenagers in the woods. You're the other half of my soul, I don't know how else to say it. With you, I'm _complete. _It's like Gabriel said; without the head, there can't be a heart.

"There's a lot of things that go unspoken between us – mainly from me," he admitted. "I never made it clear that I care about you, Clarke, I care about you _so much_. And… almost losing you today reminded me that we don't always have time to talk about these things later. Sometimes, later doesn't happen, and… And I never want to lose you without being clear. I never want things to be unspoken between us because, god, I wouldn't know what I would do."

"It's okay," she repeated again. Her voice was soothing, and it calmed the raging storm inside him. "It's okay, Bell."

"I love you."

The words left his mouth before he could stop himself. It was like he said; he didn't want things to be unspoken between them anymore.

"I'm in love with you," he added, his voice nearing a whisper. Clarke had gone completely still beside him, and it made his heart ache. "I wanted to tell you because I almost lost you today. I don't know when it happened, but, _fuck, _Clarke, I'm so in love with you. And-"

"You're right," she said, her voice matching his. The words stuck in his mouth. "I don't want to leave things left unsaid between us. I need you, Bellamy, and I'm not letting you go either." Her hand came up to cup his cheek gingerly.

His gaze drifted down to her lips and _fuck. _He could still feel them pressed against his own, from when he was breathing for her. He _knew _what they felt like, and he wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them and-

"I'm in love with you, too, Bellamy."

His eyes snapped up to meet hers and all the air left his lungs.

Her eyes sparkled. "Nothing left unspoken. I love you."

Bellamy wasn't too sure what was going to come next. He wasn't too sure how they were going to rescue their friends or save their people. He didn't know what the future held; if thy were going to be separated from each other, or if he was going to lose her again, or if this was _truly _their last fight before they found peace.

_He didn't know._

It was an easy choice to close the gap between them and press his lips to hers for the second time that day. She met him part way for a soft kiss that did not last long enough. Still, it managed to steal his breath.

Her lips were softer than he remembered, and her kiss was gentle. Her fingers brushed through his hair and her hand cradled his cheek, making his heart ache with absolute love. His own hands curled into the fabric of her shirt.

Bellamy didn't know the future. He _did _know one thing though. He knew that he loved her, and he knew that she loved him.

And, for now, that was good enough.

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**I'll be coming back to edit this at a later date, but I hope this wasn't too chaotic and messy! I hate posting without proofreading.**

**That episode was beautiful and I can't wait to watch 6x11 (DIRECTED BY BOB!). **

**Thanks for reading! ****I hope you enjoyed this dream world fic of mine. Reviews ****are extremely appreciated.**

**Paw**


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